Grayson's Surrender (Wingmen Warriors 1)

"Do what, dear?"

"Send Dave off to work every day not knowing if he would come home, and if he did what kind of shape would he be in?"

"He wouldn't have given it up for me." The older woman turned away, her head gravitating toward the solitary man walking along the shore. "And I never asked him to."

"You're a good wife." Better than I could be.

"No, I'm a very greedy one. You asked me a question, and you deserve an honest answer. How did I do it? It was better than the alternative. Not having him at all. I faced that for four god-awful years." Angela paused for a steadying breath. "I'll take what I can have of him."

What could Lori say to that? Not a darn thing.

Angela gripped the armrests and eased to her feet. Her hands whipped wrinkles from her cotton day dress. "Time for a drink check before everyone dehydrates."

"I'll help."

"No need, dear. You sit tight and relax. I'll be right back." Angela turned the power of her smile on Lori, almost covering the concern in her eyes.

Gray thought he was so much like his father. Why couldn't he see he had bits of his mother in him, as well? He had her smile covering an iron will.

And that stubborn fool had just scored another touchdown. His uninhibited victory dance tripped right over Lori's already tender emotions.

He'd broken her heart once. He was well on his way to doing it again. How she wished she were like Angela, able to take what she could before he finished her off once and for all.

Gray had offered half measures, living together, accept whatever the future held. She'd existed that way her entire childhood, with an unsure future, holding second place to her parents' jobs. She wanted better for herself—and for Magda, because she wouldn't be able to let that little girl go. Ever. No more foster parenting. Lori wanted to file for adoption. Magda was her daughter.

Lori's gaze strayed unerringly toward two bandanna-clad heads. Why did Gray have to look so very much like Magda's father?

Lori stilled the swing and watched Angela speak to Gray before she joined her husband. Clasping Dave's hand in hers, she tipped her face up to him. Love glimmered from her like the sun glinting off the lightly cresting waves.

God, she wanted that for herself, just once. Her gaze gravitated back to Gray, and she couldn't stop from wanting it with him. Hadn't Angela said there were times to just take whatever she could from life?

While she couldn't see living the rest of her life that way, maybe she could adopt the attitude for one selfish day.

He'd wanted to make the most of their last day before they said goodbye. Well, she had a damn good idea of how they should spend their last night together.

Chapter 14

His father looked different cradling a sleeping Magda to his chest. Dave Clark sprawled in his leather recliner, remote in his hand as he channel surfed. Magda snoozed away with her familiar kid snore.

Gray had expected an afternoon with his dysfunctional family would send Lori running screaming for the woods. Instead he'd seen the Clark clan through her eyes and found a few surprises of his own. Nothing radical, just softening touches around the edges.

When had his parents started holding hands again? His father had actually spoken more than three-word sentences to his children and grandchildren.

Staring at his father, Gray leaned a shoulder against the archway into the great room. What else had he missed?

He'd missed finding a chance to talk with Lori alone, since she'd spent the entire day surrounded by his family.

Gray stopped his mother in the hall, away from nosy nieces and nephews. "Hey, Mom. Do you mind watching Magda while Lori and I go for a walk?" Like he really expected his mom to argue.

Penciled eyebrows rose. "Of course not. Hold on a minute first."

Angela bustled from the room, then rushed back in breathlessly, her arms full. "Here." She shoved a beach bag and a blanket against his chest. "Do take your time. Stop and stargaze."

Oddly enough, he'd planned just that.

Gray juggled the blanket until it draped over his arm and peered in the bag warily. Two sodas, a box of crackers and a can of Cheez Whiz rattled around inside. As far as impromptu picnics went, it wasn't half bad.

He indulged in a much-needed grin. His mom hadn't been nearly this accommodating during his teenage years when he'd been desperate to get any number of girls alone in the woods.